


Crimson Tide

by DoobleBugs



Series: Hollow Knight MerFolk AU [2]
Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: (It's my first time writing slow burn), Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Human to Merperson, I love this AU and will never stop writing for it, M/M, Markoth is super oblivious, Slow Burn, Xero is very disgruntled by this entire thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29640690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoobleBugs/pseuds/DoobleBugs
Summary: After Xero takes a job from a mysterious being only known as The Radiance, disaster strikes and Xero's entire world is turned upside down.
Relationships: Markoth/Xero (Hollow Knight)
Series: Hollow Knight MerFolk AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2122839
Comments: 17
Kudos: 69





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> LISTEN IDK HOW THIS HAPPENED  
> I was working on my other fics...then I read a crimson nails fic....and then next thing I knew here I am

Xero didn’t ask questions when offered a job. If it paid his bills and didn’t get him in too much trouble with the law, he didn’t care. 

However, this was certainly a very strange case.

Sitting in a chair, he felt very, _very_ small. The entire building was uncomfortably warm and constantly smelled of slightly rotting fruit. Heck, even the room was simply enormous and completely empty, the only furniture being a chair and a desk that he was currently sitting in front of. The chair he was sitting in was too large for him, dwarfed by the large desk and a woman that was easily a foot taller than him. She was flanked by a large man, presumably a bodyguard. Again, taller than Xero, but not by much.

“We appreciate you coming on such short notice. Mr...Xero, yes?” The woman asked, folding her hands over the desk and leaning forward. 

Xero shifted in his seat; something about this woman - and the men beside her - were setting off various red flags. The way she spoke, it was thickly accented, as if English wasn’t her first language. And while that was fine normally, he had no idea what accent she had. Xero knew many people, and he had never heard her accent nor strange speech patterns.

He had dealt with strange customers before. But this woman was a whole different ballpark. When sitting down, he had made sure there was a quick getaway possible, in case something went south.

“The title isn’t necessary. Xero will suffice.” He said, eyeing the man nearby. He was tall with a beaded necklace and a fur coat. He had sharp features and a very strong build, giving him a looming appearance, almost intimidating. But he seemed as if he was unwilling to be there. Xero had seen plenty of bouncers and bodyguards, and he didn’t seem like one. He also refused to make eye contact with Xero. Strange.

“Mr. Xero, We have a proposition for you.” she said, using the ‘Mr’ title regardless. He didn’t press further. Rent was due soon. “We require you to _retire_ something for us-”

Xero interrupted. “My contract states murder costs extra.”

The woman looked confused. She was smiling, but it was very clearly fake. Brows furrowed, head tilted, she asked, “Why would We hire you to kill? We have perfectly good people here trained-”

“My Light.” The man behind her said softly. He had the same accent, albeit less intense. “I believe you meant _retrieve_ instead of _retire_. Forgive my correction.”

“You are forgiven, Markoth.” She said, giving the man - Markoth - a withering glare. “But he is correct. We want you to _retrieve_ something for us. We have a great interest in _underwater treasures,_ see.” 

“...underwater treasures.” Xero repeated, slowly, carefully, to make sure she actually said that. 

“Oh, yes! You would be surprised what you can find underneath the waves, Mr. Xero. We have a bit of a _passion_ regarding the ocean, you see. Objects and creatures included. But We are getting off-topic.” The woman began rummaging in her desk. “We have a specific item in mind, off the coast nearby. It’s a small statuette in some nearby ruins and it looks like _this.”_

She showed him an extensive diagram, involving pictures and graphs and maps. Xero focused on what the damn thing looked like and where it was. It was a small figurine of a sea serpent of some sort, carved from white marble. 

“Alright, you want me to fetch you this statue thing. I _think_ I have some scuba gear lying around my storage. Pricing may be a bit difficult-”

“Would you accept payment _after_ you retrieve the statuette for Us?” She asked. “Payment is not an issue if you’re concerned.”

Xero would normally _never_ accept payment after a finished job. He usually accepted half up-front. However, if they refused to pay him, Xero could turn right around and sell this statue and sell it himself for a pretty penny. This woman was an _idiot._

“While normally I ask for half up-front, I believe I can make an exception.” Xero said, unable to hide his smile. He extended his hand to shake it. “It’s a done deal.”

The woman stared at him blankly. “...why is your hand out?”

Masking his confusion, Xero withdrew his hand. “I see. I’ll get started immediately and I’ll contact you once the statuette is found.”

The woman laughed. “Oh, I believe We’ll find _you,_ Mr. Xero.”

Setting aside _that_ particular red flag, Xero nodded. “Now, I’ve dealt with private clients before, but may I have your name? Title? Something to refer to you as?”

“The Radiance. You will refer to me as The Radiance exclusively.”

* * *

Xero honestly had no idea how he got the scuba equipment. Maybe from an old job, long ago, or just part of the pile of crap he had accumulated over the years. He never knew what strange object or tool could help for the job, and in this case: scuba gear. 

He still needed a boat, and his employer was happy to provide one. Almost eager to, when thinking back. A bit strange, usually he’d have to use his own tools and vehicles, but he wasn’t going to say no to a free boat. 

It wasn’t the largest boat, a simple deck boat, but really, this wasn’t a difficult job. Dive in, look around for the thingy, get back on boat, demand payment. According to the map, it wasn’t even that deep down, barely fifty meters.

It was a cold, dreary morning when he set off, but the bay was always cold and dreary, even in the summers. Nearly constantly overcast, with dark clouds that looked moments away from dumping a torrential rain at any time. According to the weather report, Xero wasn’t in for any rain - yet - but he figured he’d go early to not press his luck. 

The sea was calm, thankfully, another positive. Although Xero certainly didn’t expect anything _incredible_ to happen; the town he was currently living in was positively dull. Cities like Pharloom were more exciting, more lively. But this little seaside town? Meh.

Xero donned his scuba gear; oxygen tank, flippers, goggles, etc etc. He was starting to get into the familiar motions of starting a job, even if the job involved him entering the water. He took position, falling backward into the frigid waters.

The waters were cold, as usual, and very still. Marine life had started to vanish, according to the newspapers Xero passed on the streets. Marine life was vanishing and strange, orange substances were being found in water samples. A local philanthropist - his employer, actually, small world - promised to do research to solve the problem, and that was that. 

Xero didn’t care much, truth be told. What could he do about the lack of sea life? Yeah, he supposed fishermen might be struggling, but that wasn’t his problem. Besides, he hated seafood. It was gross and slimy, and if he kept thinking about it, Xero would no doubt hurl up the burgers he had for breakfast.

He descended further into the dark waters, seeing what looked like _ruins_ below him, partially hidden in rocks and coral. Carved pillars and remnants of walls stood silent as a testament to time, slowly eroding away.

Of course, he was not here for ruins. If he wanted to look at something ruined and old, he could go look at his car. No, he was looking for the marble statuette, shaped like a white serpentine dragon, looking similar to the jars from ancient Egypt used for storing mummy organs. He _really_ hoped what he was looking for wasn’t full of organs. 

He swam past carved walls, no doubt once elegantly carved marine life once upon a time, but now they were eroded past recognition. He could see the general outline of tails and fins, but nothing more. Xero continued searching.

If he was more knowledgeable in ancient societies, Xero might be able to determine what type of building this once was; but all he could guess was that it was some sort of temple. People might have brought offerings here once to appease their God: and Xero guessed from the partially ruined mosaics and statues that it was some sort of sea serpent.

Xero swam deeper, sure that he was close. It was darker, this deep down, so he turned on a flashlight.

Sitting on a small table carved from rock was the statue he was looking for. _Bingo!_ Xero wasted no time in snatching up the small statuette, taking a moment to look it over to make sure he grabbed the right one. It looked to be the right one: a small, marble statue of a sea serpent. It looked to be a vase, with the lid being the “head”.

Xero held on tight to the statue as he began the ascent back to the boat. These ruins were giving him quite the headache, and he wasn’t quite sure why. There was a pressure bearing down on him, and not in the usual sense of water pressure. It felt like a _mental_ pressure, as if something was trying to worm into his mind.

Finally, he breached the surface, starting to crawl onto the boat. He felt exhausted, even if it wasn’t a very long dive. His headache was beginning to bloom into an aggressive migraine, and his legs felt like jelly. But it was all worth it: he got his prize.

Xero called his employer. She picked up on the third ring. “Who gave you permission to call Our phones?” She said, sounding annoyed. Was she not aware that he had her number?

“I-It’s Xero? You hired me to retrieve a statuette from the sea?”

“Ooooooh! Yes, yes, We remember you. Was the mission successful?”

Xero sat down on the deck, looking at the statuette in his hand. It was old and worn, the sea had not been kind to it. The surface was slick with ocean water. “Yeah, I got it. Where should we meet up?”

“How are you feeling, Mr. Xero? Are you feeling OK after retrieving it?” Asked Radiance. She didn’t sound concerned, more curious, with a hint of impatience. 

Xero was unsure how to answer. Not many of his clients asked about his wellbeing. “Uhm. Yeah? I feel fine. Bit of a headache.” He was a strong guy, he could handle a headache.

“Really? Nothing else?”

“...no?”

Xero heard her hiss on the other end, _“That Damned Wyrm -_ Mr. Xero, the statuette you have. Does it have a lid?”

He shifted his grip on the statuette to look at it a bit closer. “Yeah, yeah at the top. Want me to open it?”

“Open it immediately, and tell Us what you find.” She demanded, her voice turning cold and forceful.

Using his shoulder to continue holding the phone to his ear, Xero struggled to keep a firm grip on the statuette and open it at the same time. Its slick surface was hard to grab, and its serpentine form made it even worse. “Hold on, I’ve almost got it-!”

Xero watched as the statuette slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor of the deck. It exploded in shards of rock and dust, releasing white smoke. He was _definitely_ not getting paid. He stared at the destroyed statuette, completely frozen in place, as if he was hoping it would reform in front of his eyes.

“Hello? Mr. Xero? What was that noise?”

He dropped the phone as he clawed at his throat, desperate for oxygen. Each struggled breath was only met with the horrid wheeze, lungs now feeling as if set ablaze with each labored gasp. Air... he needed air! Throat now feeling like sandpaper, his eyes wide in fear for something, anything, to alleviate the pain and get oxygen down his throat. 

Within seconds he spots the scuba tank with the air meter still reading some left in the canister. With a desperate move, he reaches for the mouthpiece... only for his entire lower half to go completely numb with a loud, audible crack.

Collapsing to the floor of the boat, his mind and body was now in full panic survival mode. Using his free hand, Xero flounders for the mouthpiece, barely noticing from his blurring vision blotches of what could be described as rashes blooming randomly all over his arm, accompanied by the burning pain. He pulls the mouthpiece to his lips, desperate for any form of air, and inhales.

Nothing. His lungs only burned hotter, drier even with each desperate breath. He tries harder, fear rushing down his mind only to drop the rubber hose at feeling something scratch his cheek. Xero pulls his hand away and watches in horror as the nails begin to stretch out into wicked sharp claws. 

No, no! No, he must be dreaming! This isn't real! With how long he's gone without oxygen, his brain must surely be entering the hallucinations stage before his untimely demise!

Xero, in his last shreds of consciousness, felt a deep, instinctual urge. Clear as a bell, despite how fuzzy his mind felt.

_Get in the water._

His legs weren’t working, so he had to crawl on his stomach, using his arms to claw himself forward. He needed to get into the water. He _had_ to, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

Once he had crawled to the side of the boat, he pushed himself overboard. Xero definitely wasn’t thinking clearly, but who does, when you’re dying? The moment he landed in the water, his burning skin cooled. In his blurred vision, he could see orange specks on his arms and hands.

Despite his brain telling him not to, he took in breaths of water, feeling it pool in his lungs. It soothed the aching pain he was experiencing but wasn’t helping him with the lack of oxygen. His already blurry vision only got worse, with darkness beginning to fill his vision. 

He closed his eyes and let the ocean take him.

* * *

Xero awoke with a gasp, feeling himself resting on the sands. Did he wash ashore? He wasn’t dead?

He may not be dead, but he certainly _felt_ at least half-dead. Everything still ached, no doubt from being pummeled by the waves. He was sore all over, especially his sides and legs.

With a groan, Xero sat up, rubbing his face. Near-death experience or not, he still broke the statuette and wasn’t getting paid. That wasn’t good, rent was due soon, and his client would no doubt be pissed-

Xero paused, staring at his arm. There were orange _things_ stuck to him, shimmering in the light. His first thought was that they were large sequins of some sort. He reached to pinch some between two fingers, before noticing his hands. His fingers ended with a pointed claw, and he had thin flesh stretching between each digit.

“What the _fuck?”_ he muttered, staring at his hands. He returned to his original thought of pinching a sequin between two fingers - or claws, he guessed - and started to tug. He yelped in pain as he applied pressure. These orange sequins were stuck to his skin - no, they were _part_ of his skin.

He tried to stand, but his legs weren’t working. He could feel them move, but not in the way he wanted. Xero looked down, dreading to see why.

His legs were _gone_. Instead, he had a long, fish-like tail covered with red-orange scales. Darker red fins ran down the sides, ending with a large, frilly fin at the tip of the tail.

  
Xero wasn’t human anymore. And he started _screaming._


	2. Chapter 2

Xero screamed until all the air in his lungs were gone. He rubbed his eyes, hoping this was still some sort of awful, awful nightmare.

Peeking through his webbed fingers, he saw that he still had the fish tail instead of legs. He pinched himself, tugged at his hair, anything to wake himself up.

But he didn't wake up. This wasn't a dream.

Xero started hyperventilating, but it felt...different. He was inhaling and exhaling, but there was a strangeness to it. His lungs felt _heavy_ , as if full of stones. He looked at his sides, which was when he learned of another horrifying revelation. He had _gills_ on the sides of his chest, right below his ribs. Deep slits in his skin that subtly moved with each breath he took. Despite the horrifying ramifications of everything happening to him, he couldn't help but feel his new gills, shuddering in disgust.

The heaviness in his lungs, was that _water?_ Could he breathe water _and_ air now?

"Fuck. Fuck. _Fuuuckkk."_ Was all Xero managed to say as he tugged on the occasional scale, or poked at the webbing between his fingers, or just took in the fact that _this_ was a thing that was _actually happening to him._

Or did happen. Past tense.

Finally, Xero focused on his new tail. Like it or not, this was his current situation, and he would have to figure it out. He was Xero, a very strong, determined, adaptable, capable and a very handsome individual, he would figure this out.

His new fish tail was longer than he expected, longer than his legs previously were. In addition, he could see the pale scars he _used_ to have on his legs now on his new tail. 

It took Xero little effort to move his tail, curling it slightly and uncurling it. He hated it immensely. This was _wrong_ and he _hated it_ and wanted his normal legs back. But that was looking more and more like a pipe dream.

With a bitter acceptance of his body, Xero focused on _moving._ It’d be a cold day in hell before he goes back into the water, so going inland was his best bet.

He tried to stand. No luck. He only managed to lift his torso off the ground. Xero rolled over onto his stomach and tried to crawl, using his arms to drag himself further onto the beach. It was working surprisingly well, although it gave him uncomfortable flashbacks to nearly dying on his boat.

Still, Xero crawled forward, trying to use his new tail for extra mobility. It didn’t _not_ work? It was strange, feeling his scales scrape against the sand. Not to mention, he felt completely humiliated and helpless, crawling on his belly like a lowly worm.

Immediately, Xero thought about going to a doctor for help, or maybe a scientist. But his heart sank at the realization that they wouldn’t treat him like a patient, they’d treat him like a test subject; no doubt cutting him open to see what was inside. 

No. Limiting human contact is his best course of action while he figured out _some way_ to fix this mess. He needed a plan.

Step one: someplace to hide. Part of him knew that the waters would be the best place, but again, like _Hell_ he was going back in there. He sat up, looking for someplace to rest, away from prying eyes. 

Off in the distance was an abandoned wooden structure, the boards old and rickety. Xero could never tell the difference between a dock, a pier, and a wharf; but whatever this was, it would shield him from the sun and other humans.

(God, he was talking about people as if they were another species.)

With great difficulty, he started to crawl on the sand again, hating every second of it. If there were any merfolk around, he _needed_ to ask how to move on land. This was the worst.

Xero crawled on the damp sand, and after what felt like an hour, he was in the cool shade of the wooden structure. He collapsed onto the sand, trying to ignore the cigarette butts and empty beer bottles.

Well, step one completed: he could hide out down here for a few days without anyone finding him. 

And thank _God_ for that. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, Xero was exhausted, every bone in his body ached. Even his new tail hurt, which was strange, seeing as how he’d never used it before. Maybe it was similar to growing pains.

He gathered sand to pile it around him, resting his chin on a small pile of it. It was surprisingly comfortable, or maybe he really was just that tired.

Groaning, Xero closed his eyes to allow himself a small rest.

* * *

“You called for me, My Light?” Markoth bowed his head as he entered the room, although he quickly stood back to attention.

The Radiance turned to him, speaking quickly. “Yes, yes, We may have run into some _problems_ with Our original plan, see. And We require your aid.”

Markoth blinked, surprised. Rarely did his Goddess admit to _any_ fault, so admitting that her half-baked plans may have gone awry was astonishing. “What seems to be the problem?”

“That _idiotic_ mercenary we hired failed Us. He broke the Wyrm’s fancy vase and got himself cursed. Our initial plan won’t work. We’re moving to the backup plan.”

“...backup plan?” He wasn’t aware of a backup plan, but rarely did the Radiance tell him _anything_ useful. Even rarer still did she plan things in advance. “Care to enlighten me?”

Practically beaming, she turned to him with a warm smile. “We’d be happy to explain, dear follower! If we capture the Xero, then maybe we can _reverse engineer_ the curse! And cure ourselves of the original Human curse!”

“So...so you want a _new curse_ to override the _current_ curse.” Markoth repeated, slowly, to make sure he understood this backward idea. But the Radiance nodded enthusiastically, and Markoth held back a scowl. A strange thought entered his mind, and he risked asking it. “Would we hurt the man?”

Scoffing, the Radiance replied, “Well, he’s not a _man_ anymore. And besides, it’s to further Our research! To cure Us! Do you _want_ to be stuck with these useless legs? Do you _want_ to remain tied to the land? Don’t you miss the sea?”

The Radiance stepped closer with every question, and Markoth was reminded how frightening his Goddess could be. Keeping his eyes to the floor, he said quietly, “I think that we may be...hurting many things in our efforts, _too_ many things, to cure-”

“Well _there_ is the issue.” Radiance sighed, as if she were dealing with a small toddler. “Yours is not to think, Markoth, yours is to _follow._ It is Our job as your Goddess to come with plans, and it is your job as Our beloved follower to act on Our orders. Understand?”

Markoth felt like he was about to throw up from all the condescension she was spoon-feeding him. Regardless, he grit his teeth and bowed his head. “Of course, My Light. Do you wish for me to search for Xero?”

“Yes, that would be most helpful. We don’t need him alive, so if he puts up a fight, simply kill him. And if he’s already dead, attempt to locate the body before the crabs devour him. But find him before the human authorities grow superfluous.”

Markoth blinked. Did she mean _suspicious?_ He really needed to talk about her tendency to slip on words. But that was _not_ a conversation he was brave enough to face right now. Instead, he said, “I will find him, My Light. Expect news soon.” and meekly backed out of the room.

* * *

Xero woke up covered in crabs and snails. 

He yelped, spasming and twisting himself around to get the creatures off him. “I’M NOT DEAD YET, YOU UNDERWATER _VULTURES!”_ he shouted, tossing several of the snails and crabs off and into the water.

One particular crab hung around while the others scattered, and Xero glared at it. The crab stared back with its beady eyes and pulsating mouthparts. He shuddered. Gods, why was ocean life so _creepy?_ Beady little eyes, strange mouths, creepy tendrils and claws, _eugh._

Did Xero qualify as creepy now? How much of him was human, how much of him was fish? He hadn’t seen his face yet, terrified of what he might see.

He crawled over to the waves, his tail being completely useless in land mobility. He was never a good swimmer before, would his new tail help or hinder him? While the idea of going into the water made his stomach churn, his new body was built for the sea, wasn’t it?

Before fully emerging himself in the surf, he stared at his reflection. It was still him, he still had a human face. Although, the finned ears and glowing eyes were new; but it was still him. He wasn’t dead yet.

The waves gently crashing against his aching body felt...nice. It was inviting, almost, like crawling into bed after a long day and wrapping yourselves in blankets. He thought the water would be colder, but it wasn’t.

Before he could enter the water, Xero heard the motor of a boat getting louder. Immediately he ducked back to the shadows under the dock for safety. He did _not_ want to be cut up into sashimi, not today.

He hated crawling, it was slow and he felt incredibly stupid, but it was the fastest way to get back to safety, even if he did faceplant into the sand in front of the crab. “Shhhshshsh!” He shushed the crab. “Don’t make a sound! I don’t want anyone finding me, OK Constance? You look like a Constance, do you mind me calling you that?”

Constance the crab blinked at him.

“I’m losing my mind already huh? Thought it’d take longer.”

The sounds grew louder, and Xero could see the boat on the horizon; a small motorboat with a horrendous orange paint job that would put all of Florida’s orange trees to shame. It pulled up to the shore, and a man hopped off and started combing the beach.

He hadn’t seen Xero yet, and Xero was perfectly content in laying low with Constance. But when the man pulled out an object that looked exactly like Xero’s wallet, albeit soggier than he remembered, he couldn’t help himself.

“Hey! That’s mine!” Xero shouted, then immediately regretted his decision. So much for laying low.

The man turned, and Xero recognized him. He was the man standing behind the Radiance earlier! What was his name? Mark? Mark Moth?

“There you are,” said Mark Moth, pocketing Xero’s wallet and coming closer. “I was wondering where you washed up.”

“W-Wait, don’t come closer.” Xero stammered, attempting to cover his tail and other fishy-features with the sand. “I-I’m indecent. Mark, right? Listen, listen, if you could come back later, maybe, or even never! Come back never, maybe-”

“Markoth, actually.” He said firmly. “When that statuette you were sent to retrieve broke, you were inflicted with a curse. Your form twisted, broken, then reformed into something that may seem foreign to you, correct?”

Xero’s jaw dropped. Did Markoth and the Radiance _know_ this would happen? “Cursed? Cursed??? Like fucking magic?? Like 1692 Salem Witch Trials fuckery???”

Markoth ignored Xero’s enraged and confused protests, kneeling down where Xero poorly concealed his tail with sand. Tugging on one of his fins, Markoth pulled Xero’s tail from the sand to look over it.

Xero squeaked and pulled away. “Hey! _Keep off!”_ He snarled. Then he slapped a hand over his mouth. Did _he_ make that awful noise?

To his credit, Markoth didn’t seem upset. He still had his cool disposition as he looked Xero over. “The transformation seems to have been successful, at least, that’s good.”

“W-What the hell does _that_ mean? It could’ve been _worse??_ In case you haven’t noticed, Mark, I’M A FISH PERSON NOW-”

“Mer. Singular is mer, the plural is merfolk, and mermaid and merman for their respective identities.” 

Xero blinked. “What the _hell_ are you on about?”

Markoth shrugged. “Figured you might want to know proper terms-”

“Hey, hey smart guy, since you’re so _knowledgeable_ on the subject, how about you help me out here?!” Xero interrupted with a shout, gesturing to himself. “I’m _not_ a mer! I’m a _person!”_

“I _have_ helped you, if you can believe it.” replied Markoth. “I was sent to kill you, Xero. The Radiance was far from happy with your performance.”

Xero wasn’t a moron. Of _course_ she’d be upset, and Xero had dealt with unhappy clients in the past. The best thing to do was to pack up shop and flee before any hired assassins could find you. But how was he supposed to skip down without legs?

“So she wants me dead, big deal. Lots of people want me dead. But what am I supposed to do about it? In case you haven’t noticed, I can’t exactly leave town with a fish tail.”

“...you know you could _swim_ away-”

“That’s not happening.”

Markoth scoffed. “Alright, be a fish out of water then.” He looked down at the wallet in his hand. “...listen. The Radiance will lose interest in a couple of days. She is brilliant but...her brain has been scattered as of late. I’ll tell her you were devoured by crabs.”

Xero gave Constance the crab a pointed look. “Alright, it’s great that you’ll cover for me, Mark, but is there anything else you could do?”

“Currently? No.” Markoth looked over his shoulder, tucking Xero’s wallet into his coat. “If I’m gone for too long, I’ll garner suspicion. I can return later, once I can sneak away.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want our parents to find out, eh Romeo?” Xero scoffed.

Markoth blinked, pointing to himself. “...Markoth.”

“No, I know your name it’s - You know like Romeo and…” Xero realized he wasn’t getting through to him. “Forget it.”

“I may not be able to help you in significant ways, but I can help where I can.” Markoth said, nodding his head and turning to leave.

Xero huffed, settling down to try and get comfortable in the sand. “A _cure_ would be nice.”

“If I had a cure, I wouldn’t be here!” Markoth shouted back.

Quiet for a moment, Xero watched Markoth get back onto his boat and speed off, only _then_ did he process what the man said. _“Wait what?!”_

**Author's Note:**

> I also have some Xero sketches: https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/786816365716570143/813340401691525150/unknown.png?width=1063&height=670  
> (It's not a rickroll I promise)


End file.
